


Last Night I Dreamt of You

by BiJane



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, I saw that was a tag and had to use it, Kara Danvers Needs a Hug, Kara lives a long time, Prophetic Visions, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-31 01:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21029891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiJane/pseuds/BiJane
Summary: Kryptonians live much longer than humans. It’s unavoidable. But after a vision of Kara in the far future, long after losing everyone she’d cared about, Nia wants to make sure Kara has the happiness she deserves.





	Last Night I Dreamt of You

**Author's Note:**

> There are other things I should be working on, but oh well, back to Kara/Nia! Also angst.

Nia sleeps, and Nia dreams.

She remembers what the book said; most people don’t remember all their dreams, and she’s no different. There are visions and predictions that greet her sleeping mind and will be lost to her when morning comes. No one knows how much gets seen and forgotten by a Naltorian with her gift.

According to some myths, all eternity flickers past behind her eyes whenever she falls to sleep. The dreams she remembers are just the barest handful she can keep hold of. It scares her, honestly; she tried not to think too hard about that.

The more likely belief is just that she sees things that will be important to her in the short term. That’s all. It’s less… overwhelming to think that.

Though sometimes she remembers flickers, images, that don’t quite seem to fit in with anything else she’d seen. Sometimes she glimpses things that she knows should be impossible, especially over the days-long span most of her visions encompass. Sometimes she wakes up with icy dread crawling up her throat and fading images in her eyes and she can never quite remember _why_.

She keeps a pen and paper by her bed. That day, when she wakes up, she scrambles for it and scrawls the fading memory of an image down and a few words to make absolutely sure she remembers _that_.

It’s easy to tell when her dreams are prophetic. It’s less easy to recognise when it’s metaphor, or what’s metaphor, but enough of the time there are literal features that she can identify. She remembered a sight, and remembered screaming at herself to cling to it, to not let it slip from her mind.

Breathless, Nia falls out of her bed, before scrambling up to her feet. Today isn’t a day to delay.

* * *

“I saw something,” Nia said. “I don’t know exactly what all of it means, but it looked… bad.”

She, Kara, J’onn and Brainy gathered around a table in J’onn’s office. She couldn’t help but feel almost underdressed in her normal clothes, though it had hardly been worth changing into Dreamer.

“What was it?” Kara said.

“You,” Nia said. She hesitated. “I don’t always remember everything I see while sleeping perfectly, but I noted it down as soon as I woke up. There was a corridor, the lights were off, and there was a locked door and on the other side you were… wrapped up in something. You weren’t moving.”

Her voice was unsteady. She’d foreseen a lot of things, but this felt more… personal. At least the shaking in her tone made the others listen more intently.

“Did you see anything else?” Kara said. “I’ll be careful for the next few days if something’s after me.”

“It’s fuzzy,” Nia said. “I drew this, it’s how the corridor looked. I wanted to sketch more but I forgot too fast. Something to keep an eye out for.”

She pulled a folded piece of paper out from her pocket and opened it up the table. The drawing wasn’t exactly spectacular, squiggled lines to show a hallway, a sliding metal door with a thick border, some kind of box beside it, and an awkwardly sketched circle on the wall.

Brainy stiffened.

J’onn and Kara peered at it, frowning. It was clearly some kind of base; no ordinary home had doors like that, especially with just that one ornament on the wall.

“Brainy?” Nia said.

J’onn and Kara both looked up; he’d tensed.

“You saw Supergirl?” he said.

“Yes,” Nia said, uncertain.

“Specifically Supergirl, dressed as Supergirl?” he said.

“Yes,” Nia said again. “I mean, I think so. Why, what is it?”

He hesitated; his gaze dipped back down, looking at the sheet again. His finger brushed the circle on the wall with the sketched shape inside it.

“This,” he said. “This, ah, uh…”

He stepped back, eyes scanning the office. After a few seconds he hurried to pick up a pen from J’onn’s desk and a post-it note to sketch something else on. He showed the result to Nia, holding one hand over it to ensure only she saw it.

He’d drawn a perfect circle. It was much neater than Nia’s own, with a bold L, two lines striking a path from one point on the circumference to another, and a curling star in the large open space left by it.

“Did it look like this?” he said, his voice soft and urgent.

“I… yes,” Nia said. “Something like that.”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yes, Brainy!” Nia said. “You can stop asking that.”

“Brainy?” Kara said. “Is it important?”

Brainy faltered. He glanced back at Kara, then at Nia; the indecision in his eyes didn’t seem to be fear exactly. Then again it could sometimes be hard to read his emotions. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

Almost unconsciously, he wrapped his hand tightly around the neatly drawn symbol in his hand. He clung onto it and seemed to be doing more than making sure no one else could see it.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he said eventually.

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” Kara said.

“Trust me!” he said. There was a rare note of… something in his voice. “It’s nothing that’s going to happen any time soon.”

He quickly grabbed Nia’s drawing and moved away. He walked out of the office a little awkwardly, not acknowledging the stares that met his back.

* * *

Nia caught up with him outside Catco, several hours later. He jumped as she approached. It wasn’t that he’d been avoiding them, he’d always been very proud of how well he could compartmentalise so it would take a lot more for him to ever try to avoid contact, but even so it had been hard to get a moment alone.

And even with all his boxes, something had unnerved him.

“Brainy, what was that?” she said. “And don’t say it’s nothing. No one believes that.”

He hesitated.

“I can’t say,” he said.

“Really?” she said.

“Nia Nal, you know how time travel works,” he said. “If you learn something you shouldn’t learn, then the consequences can be…”

“So it _is_ from Kara’s future,” Nia said. “Besides, I saw it, doesn’t that mean you can tell me? If she’s in danger and you don’t say-”

“Not if you don’t determine the context yourself,” Brainy said. He glanced around, nervous as he always got when discussing potential paradoxes. “It’s… not what you think.”

He seemed to regret saying that much. Nia just stared at him.

“I can’t say,” he said.

Nia kept staring. A few seconds more and he wilted, slumping and again looking around nervously as if the Legion were going to appear to scold him.

“Do you really want to know?” he said. “It… might not be all you want. And you mustn’t tell anyone, you can’t _stop_ something happening because of knowledge gleaned from it _already_ happening. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I get it,” Nia said. “I have to know.”

She might have been lying. She wasn’t sure; as far as she was concerned, the timeline could go screw itself if Kara was in danger. The fervour in her eyes must have convinced Brainy though.

That, or he wanted to say it. Boxes wanted to be opened. Maybe having someone to confide in was easier, or maybe he wanted her to be more irresponsible than a trained Legionnaire would be. She waited impatiently.

He guided her gently off the street, an arm on her shoulder.

“I’m from your future,” Brainy said. “Everything here is in my past, every _person_ is in my past. You, and Kara, and J’onn, and National City… Where I’m from, your deaths are historical record. If I was there I could probably find your graves. You understand?”

“You… You mean that’s how Kara-” Nia began, shakily.

“It’s the principle! I could know how all of you end up,” Brainy said. “Not every detail, but enough.”

“Brainy! Are you telling me I saw how Kara dies?” Nia said again.

He hesitated.

“No,” he said.

Nia breathed a sigh of relief. Brainy didn’t look any more comfortable.

“No,” Brainy said. “That is, she, uh, doesn’t.”

Nia hesitated.

“What?” she said.

“She doesn’t. Die, I mean,” Brainy said. “Kryptonians on average live longer than humans anyway, but under a yellow sun her aging slows almost to the point of stopping, and even if she’s injured she’s constantly being healed.”

“Then what I saw…”

“It’s… I’ve only visited it once, myself,” Brainy said. “It’s something of a tradition for new members of the Legion, to show respect. That symbol you drew is ours. And there’s a room in our headquarters that’s tightly sealed, off-limits so no one disturbs her, where she sleeps.”

“I saw something wrapped around her,” Nia said.

“It’s called a Black Mercy,” he said. He faltered. “The stories are… muddled. Centuries ago, my time, either a threat tricked her into it, or she willingly went into its vines. The Mercy traps its victims in an illusion they’d never want to fight off. A happy dream. People she’d lost, back again; it’s fake, but I understand it feels very real.”

Nia stared at him.

“That’s…” she said softly. “You just _left_ her there?”

“Not- not always,” he said hastily. “We know how to remove a Black Mercy; she’s been taken from it several times, usually when we need her help, but after… she goes back. Every time. However it started, she wants the dream now. That’s what you saw.”

Nia swallowed.

She almost wished she hadn’t asked. Kara locked in a dream of days gone by as the centuries went past, trapped in an illusion rather than face loss. And that was the future. The future she’d seen, and Brainy had lived.

Losing everyone would have to hurt. Losing everyone and knowing how long she’d have to live with that loss… Nia couldn’t blame her for favouring an illusion.

She took another breath. Even without a solid memory of the dream, she found she could imagine it with disturbing ease. Kara. Alone.

“I suggest boxes,” Brainy said suddenly.

Nia blinked, clearing her eyes and refocusing. Right, she was talking to him. She cleared her throat.

“What?” she said.

“Boxes,” he said. “In your mind. Put the knowledge in one box and close it so you don’t have to think about it.”

“I’m… not sure it’s that easy,” Nia said.

He looked at her. She didn’t look at him.

“You knew, all this time?” Nia said. “That that’s where she ends up?”

“You can’t tell her,” Brainy said. “No one can know their own futures. It’s not… You wanted to know. Now you do.”

And what was she meant to say? Tell Kara what awaited her? It wasn’t as though she had a solution, or any way to make things better. Kara would just outlive them, until eventually she’d lost so much that-

No. Don’t think about it. How was she even meant to say that? What would the _point_ be?

“I’ll… I need to go,” Nia said.

Brainy watched her turn, and she hurried back onto the street. She didn’t go to Catco. Calling in sick was the least of her worries.

* * *

When she slept, it felt like drowning.

She’d never seen the distant future before. No, that could be inaccurate; she’d never _remembered_ seeing any of it. When she was awake, her visions were always directed. When she was asleep then her gift was uncontrolled.

It didn’t focus on any one thing so, apparently, it was freer. Such dreams however never lingered long in the waking mind. She could spend the night overwhelmed by image after image and sight after sight, and when she awoke she’d know none of it.

She remembered nothing but her sudden shortness of breath, and a shaking that wouldn’t go away.

She didn’t know if she’d seen Kara again. All she had left of her dreams were a faint sense of despair and a vague ache she couldn’t ignore. 

* * *

Nia kept thinking of it. Even at Catco, typing away at her desk, her gaze drifted for a moment and she saw Kara and she imagined…

Even without a clear memory of the vision, she’d seen enough to put it together. The plant with its creeping vines, Kara in perpetual sleep, and the dimmed room with no light save a sun lamp meant to keep her alive.

Her gaze lingered. Then Kara turned, and Nia hastily looked back down at her desk and tried not to think about it.

Was it cruelty or kindness? More, was what she was doing now cruelty or kindness? Kara deserved to know, but was it just cruel to say? Ignoring everything about time, part of her wished she’d never found out.

“Something wrong?” Kara said, walking up.

“Um, n-no,” Nia said quickly.

“Did you find out what your vision was?” Kara said.

“It’s…” Nia said. She hesitated. “Nothing immediate. It won’t happen without… more warning. That’s all.”

It wasn’t technically lying. Still, Kara’s sunny, encouraging smile in response sent a pang through her.

“That’s good then,” Kara said brightly. “No more problems?”

_Your future is loneliness and misery_. No, that was too cruel. Nia swallowed.

“Nothing I’ve seen,” Nia said.

“Keep me posted!” Kara said. She didn’t move away. “You’d say if you weren’t ok, right?”

“Of course,” Nia said.

Kara’s gaze lingered on her for a moment more, soft. Nia _felt _it.

Kara was good, and kind; unquestionably, she was one of the best people Nia knew. Supportive but not pushy, guiding without being controlling, and after everything unflinchingly, unfailingly, fundamentally _good_.

Lying or hiding anything from her was bad. Worse, though, was what she’d seen.

“Kara,” Nia began, just as Kara turned.

Kara looked back. Nia faltered.

No. No, saying was cruel. But even then, she couldn’t just let it happen.

“You… I’ll let you know when I get all the details,” Nia said. “Ok?”

“Sounds good,” Kara said.

She was smiling again, and it hurt. Nia had always liked seeing Kara happy; it was harder to bear knowing what Kara would have to live through. Outliving everyone…

Nia typed a few more lines before forcing herself up and out of her chair. She couldn’t be expected to focus, not now. There was something she had to get to first.

* * *

“No. We- No! We cannot change the past,” Brainy said.

“Why?” Nia said. “What about _that_ is worth protecting? Things are different already with you here. All I want to know is if there’s anything we can do.”

“Time is delicate,” Brainy said. “And what you’re proposing… what _are_ you proposing?”

“I don’t know, you’re the genius,” Nia said. “I just know I can’t do nothing if Kara’s going to be miserable.”

Brainy hesitated.

“Do you think she’d want any kind of help?” Brainy said. “If she went to Argo she’d have a more typical life, but it would mean leaving the Earth, and she doesn’t want that. She’s always known it’s an option. She _chose_ to stay here, where she can help.”

“So we just let it happen?” Nia said. “I… I’m going to tell her. I have to, I know what you said, but it’s her future and I can’t keep it from her. I just want to know that there’s something _else_ we can say.”

“Nothing she won’t already know,” Brainy said.

“That doesn’t make it any better,” Nia said. “She’s Supergirl! She’s meant to give hope to everyone, she deserves some too.”

She could believe Kara would stay so she could protect the Earth, if she needed to. Even with what it meant sacrificing, Kara would give it up to keep people safe, and that just made it all the more unfair.

Just the thought of Kara out there, somewhere in the distant future…

“Alright,” Nia said. “If you won’t help me change things now, we change things _then_. I want to talk to her.”

“What?” Brainy said.

“The her in the future,” Nia said. “Do you know how to get back there? I want to hear what she wants. If it’s her choice, if she really wouldn’t do anything differently… You said you know how to wake her up, so I want to talk to her.”

Brainy hesitated. He reached into his pocket, toying with his ring for a few seconds.

“I can send a message,” he said. “I don’t know if they’ll answer.”

“Can you?”

He lifted the ring, focusing on it for a moment. Then he looked past it to Nia.

“I can’t promise anything, you know that?” he said.

“I get it,” Nia said.

“I’ll ask them to send a small ship to the abandoned space near Brennert Street,” he said. “This time tomorrow. If they get it and listen, they’ll be there.”

Nia breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” she said.

She wasn’t sure why she suddenly felt happier. It wasn’t like anything had been accomplished, just a chance of something that might add up to nothing happening. But at least it was doing something, it was _trying_.

Kara had taught her that well, at least.

“Until tomorrow, Nia Nal,” Brainy said, with a slight flourish.

“Tomorrow,” she echoed.

* * *

Nia still wasn’t sure what she dreamt of. Hopefully that meant it was nothing urgent. When she woke, gasping for air, she quickly grabbed for her phone. No message from Brainy, nor any requests for Dreamer’s help, and a few hours to go.

She dressed as Dreamer rather than her casual clothes, deciding that better suited a potential journey to the future. Then she hurried out of her apartment as quickly as she could. Being late when meeting up with time travellers just felt tacky.

Where had Brainy said? Right!

There were quiet spots in any city, and National City was no different. There was no point in spooking people if the Legion did turn up.

She hurried to where she spotted Brainy standing. An empty block was in front of them, between two buildings, the ground bare and cracked and a good spot for a time machine to arrive on. So far, it was empty.

He was waiting with his hands behind his back. Was it her imagination, or was he nervous? Well, he hadn’t seen the Legion for a while, maybe it was to be expected.

“If they’re coming, it’ll be soon,” he said.

“Ok,” Nia said. She hesitated. “Wait, if we do go to the future, we won’t come back ten years later or anything will we?”

He turned, quirking an eyebrow.

“Hey! Sorry if I’m not up to date on how time travel works!” Nia said. “Oh my god I might be travelling in time.”

Her eyes widened. Ok, she’d planned it, but now it was actually_ happening_. Before she could dwell on that impossibility for too long though, something crashed into being just a few metres in front of them. It hurt to look during the transition, a mess of colours and nameless shapes, but after, something very solid now filled the empty space.

It was slightly smaller than a truck, all the edges rounded rather than sharp. A doorway was outlined in the front; they watched it slid open.

Nia hadn’t seen any Legion ship before, at least not knowingly, but she had seen the photos in the papers of the huge thing that had helped fight Reign. She’d only found out much more recently what that was. This was nothing like that.

Still, there were similarities. Even if this was a different kind of craft, it did make sense the Legion would have more than just the one vessel. 

Then a woman appeared in the doorway. She took an experimental step out, foot gingerly touching the ground, before she smiled and completed the next few steps much more easily. Beside Nia, Brainy tensed.

“Brainy!” she said. “Good to see you again. And you must be… Nia Nal, isn’t it?”

“Um,” Nia said.

Suddenly the woman was staring at her. It wasn’t unnerving, it was just… something she hadn’t expected. The woman wore what was definitely some kind of superhero outfit, a bright white top with gloves, and bright white on her legs, broken up only by a patch of darker grey in the shape of shorts. Her hair was just as strikingly pale.

Why was she looking at Nia like that?

“Hi?” Nia managed eventually.

The woman smiled graciously. It was a second before she turned her attention to the other Legion member present.

“Oh, relax Brainy,” she said. “No one’s spoiling the future here, _are they_?” she said.

What was that in her voice? It sounded… insistent. No, Nia shook it off, no distracting herself. She was doing this for Kara.

“N-no,” Brainy said. He stiffened, then relaxed. “I just… didn’t expect to see you.”

“Does this mean you’ll help?” Nia said.

“Of course,” the woman said. “I had to, when I saw the message. Come aboard. It’s just me, this isn’t the biggest vessel, but it’ll be enough to take the three of us forward.”

Nia found her legs were starting to be unsteady. An abstract plan to make things better was considerably easy to consider, realising she was about to go into a time machine on the other hand was a touch more overwhelming.

The woman shot an encouraging smile back, as Nia was the last to come on board.

“All ok?” she said.

“Y-yeah,” Nia said. “Uh, what’s your name?”

Brainy tensed; Nia didn’t notice. The woman just smiled.

“I’m just the driver,” she said. “Don’t mind me.”

The interior of the timeship was remarkably simple. There were rows of seats along each wall, and then one chair in the middle suspended from the ceiling with consoles set into the arms; the self-proclaimed driver, unsurprisingly, went for the central seat.

“Hold on,” she said. “First time-jump always feels bumpy.”

Right. This _was_ happening. Nia hurriedly sat down, swallowed, and pulled whatever the timeship version of a seatbelt was across herself. She gripped the seat tightly.

The woman sat down. Her fingers danced across the consoles more like she was playing a piano than controlling a vehicle, but whatever she was doing certainly worked; the whole ship began to judder, and the view outside the window was blacked out for a moment as the engines started to roar.

Nia screwed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth as the whole place shook. It went on for… she didn’t know how long.

And then suddenly they were still again. Nia took a deep breath and opened her eyes; there was no street out the window now. Instead there were ripples of green, no shapes solid or distinct enough to make out or name, stretching off into eternity.

She stared for a long moment.

It was the sound of movement that distracted her. The woman was getting up out of the driver’s chair, shaking her long, pale hair back.

“It takes a while to get to the 31st century, even in one of these,” she said. “Brainy, take over?”

He hesitated. Nia didn’t register a lot of the exchange, swaying a little in her chair. The view out the window was terrifying and captivating in equal measure.

The woman pulled something out of her pocket. It was a small pack, and she slid it open in a practised motion so that a pill slipped out into her hand.

“Here,” she said softly.

“Huh?” Nia said.

“Feeling woozy, right?” she said. “Seer-sickness. You see the future, your body has an inherent time-sense that doesn’t adapt well to time travel. Take one, it helps.”

She didn’t know enough to dispute that. Shrugging, Nia reached out shakily to take one. It tasted plain but dissolved on her tongue in an instant. She swallowed.

Almost immediately it felt like her head cleared. She inhaled deeply.

“Thank you,” Nia said.

“You’re welcome,” the woman said. She sat herself down beside Nia; she didn’t speak.

Even starting to adjust, it took Nia a moment to fully grasp what was going on. She kept needing to repeat ‘time travel, time travel’ over in her head and it still wasn’t quite sinking in.

She was going centuries into the future to make sure Kara didn’t regret what was happening to her, and if she did, to fix things. Somehow. The enormity of that was just beginning to sink in.

“Thanks,” Nia said again, still slightly breathless.

“You said,” the woman said.

“No, I mean…” Nia said. Another breath. “Letting me do this. I wasn’t sure.”

“It’s… I didn’t want to refuse,” she said. “I read your message; you saw her. It can’t be easy to know that.”

“No,” Nia said. She hesitated. “It’s… sort of scary. Not just what she’ll go through, but the fact I _can_ see that far, I never knew that was possible. I can’t control it, but, it’s like, um, I don’t know what else I could see.”

“Seeing the future doesn’t make things easy,” the woman said.

“Yeah,” Nia said. “I never wanted this, honestly.”

“You didn’t?” the woman said. She sounded surprised.

“No, I mean, I got used to it,” Nia said. “But I didn’t think I’d be the one to inherit the… gift. I never planned for it, and when I started getting the visions I tried to deny it.”

She paused. Somehow it was easy to talk to the stranger; it might just have been that she was a stranger, Nia wasn’t likely to bump into anyone from the far future again so there was no need to feel self-conscious. With the way the woman looked at her, she didn’t feel judged.

“Kara helped,” Nia said. “And Brainy. And mom. They got me used to it, but this was the kind of thing that scared me. There was a _lot_ I was suddenly responsible for, and a lot I’d suddenly know that no one else knew, good and bad. I don’t know what I’d have done without them. I doubt I’d be Dreamer.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” the woman said. “If all you need is a little encouragement to be a hero, you’d have taken that path sooner or later.”

“Maybe. I don’t know,” Nia said. “Seeing that… it just reminded me of why I was scared. I know how much I might end up seeing now, if I saw that far ahead. It’s…”

“Terrifying,” the woman said.

“Yeah,” Nia said. Deep breath. “But I know that I can’t do nothing if I see Kara suffering, no matter what.”

“Someone you care about needs help, so how could you stand by?” the woman said.

“Exactly,” Nia said.

She shifted in her seat, moving back. The back of her head was still pounding but it wasn’t distracting her now. Her biggest worry came more from half-remembering way too many time travel movies; hopefully they were inaccurate.

The woman was still staring at her. Well, Nia supposed, she was technically a historical figure to the people of that time. She was fairly sure she didn’t want to ask for details.

“Almost there!” Brainy said.

The woman tore her attention away, hopping to her feet. She was by the central chair in moments. Brainy was already standing up; he let her take over operations as the ship started to shudder again. Nia took a deep breath.

Landing wasn’t nearly so horrible as taking off. She didn’t know whether it was the pill the woman had given her, but Nia didn’t feel nearly so nauseated by the transition. It passed by quicker.

When the ship was still, the windows still appeared blacked out; it took a second for Nia to realise that no, they weren’t blocked like they had been when going in and out of that green place, it was just that it was dark outside. If she was squinted she could make out a beam marking whatever was in front of the ship as a wall.

They were inside. That probably made sense; taking her into her future likely wasn’t something they did casually, so they wouldn’t want her wandering around outside if she was just here for a bit.

Nia groaned, still unsteady, getting to her feet. The other two were already standing.

“Stay here, Brainy,” the woman said.

“But-”

“No buts,” she said. “You know why you couldn’t come back before. We’re holding our own, but outside of this ship you’re vulnerable.”

Nia looked between them; Brainy didn’t seem surprised, but he nonetheless seemed disappointed to sit down again.

“I’ll be here,” he said.

“Are you sure he can’t come?” Nia said.

“She’s right,” Brainy said. “Go. I’ll wait.”

A little reluctantly, Nia left him behind.

It was strange, being in the future. It was like that feeling of walking off a plane on holiday, the air tasting different and the ground strange under her feet after so long in flight, only magnified a thousand times. She knew that whichever direction she looked in, where she’d come from wouldn’t be there.

The only parts of this world that were familiar to her were Brainy, whom she’d left, and Kara, who…

She followed the woman in the white suit through quiet hallways. Every few seconds the woman glanced back at her, as if she had something to say. Still, she was quiet until they made it to a locked door.

A familiar S-logo was printed on a plate over it. The woman moved to the side and typed a few numbers on the keypad.

“Are you ready?” the woman said.

Nia took a deep breath. Then, she nodded.

The door slid open.

Kara lay there. The bed beneath her, admittedly, looked comfortable. The green vines crawling over her however did not; red, spiky flowers were growing over her chest, seeming almost to seep into the fabric of her suit. Her eyes were closed, her expression peaceful, as the plant coiled tightly around her throat.

Kara was entirely still; she looked so lonely, so small in a room with nothing in save her, her bed, and the plant that fed upon her.

Well, almost nothing. The foot of the bed was metal; a few lights glinted upon it, clearly some kind of technology. At least it was unobtrusive. If not for the hungry tendrils of the Black Mercy, one could almost have thought Kara was just sleeping.

Nia took a step back. She shivered.

“I can wake her,” the woman said. “If you’re sure…”

“Do it,” Nia said quickly. “Please.”

It hurt to see Kara like that. Maybe there were a couple of faint strands of white in her hair, maybe there were a couple more lines on her face, but there was no mistaking who it was. Nia barely noticed the differences.

Nor did she notice the woman hurrying to the foot of the bed and lifting something to her own forehead. In a few seconds, Kara stirred.

“Is it that time?” Kara’s lips moved.

She sounded so, so much older than she looked. Nia’s eyes prickled, and she watched the Black Mercy start to wither and wilt, pulling away from Kara as its leaves shrivelled away.

Kara sat up.

“N-” Kara began.

She started looking at the foot of the bed. Then she glimpsed something in her peripheral vision, turned, and froze.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” the woman said. “Knock on the door when you’re done.”

Kara was staring back at Nia. Nia opened her mouth to speak, only to find her throat was dry.

She’d spoken to Kara a matter of hours ago, it shouldn’t be hard to find the words now. Then again this wasn’t technically her Kara. More than that, her Kara had never looked at her like that. Like the sky was dark and empty and she was the only star.

“Nia,” Kara said.

Her voice cracked. Nia hadn’t heard that before.

And then Kara was on her feet, standing up and sweeping over in a rush of air, faster than Nia’s eyes could follow, and pressing her lips to Nia’s.

It took a second for Nia’s brain to catch up with what was happening. It took a second more to fully register the feeling of Kara’s lips against hers, her skin warm and firm and comfortable, before stumbling back.

It didn’t make finding words any easier. Kara stared at her as she pulled away, something indescribable in her eyes.

“You’re not perfect,” Kara said wonderingly.

Nia faltered.

“Um. Sorry?” Nia said.

Kara closed the gap between them again, that time only to wrap her arms tightly around Nia. Without thinking Nia did the same; Kara squeezed tightly, hugging harder than her Kara normally did. This Kara apparently was much more confident with how much strength she could use.

Nia hugged back, feeling the firm muscle beneath the ancient material of Kara’s suit. Kara was trembling.

“You’re real,” Kara said. “You’re really real.”

It was several minutes before a shaking Kara moved back. She looked Nia up and down, the merest frown creasing her forehead.

“Kara,” Nia said, breathless. “Are you-”

“How are you here?” Kara said. She was still staring at Nia. “How are you _real_? I don’t… I remember you…”

“Um. Time travel,” Nia said. “It exists apparently.”

“I know it d-” Kara began. She caught herself. “They brought you here?”

“I asked,” Nia said. “I had a vision of you… there. I, god Kara are you alright? You looked awful under that thing, do you need a moment? I can probably get… I don’t know what her name is, but maybe she can get you water, or food, or something.”

Kara didn’t take her eyes off Nia. She seemed almost captivated.

“Kara?” Nia said.

“I’m fine,” Kara said. “So, _so_ fine.”

“That thing…” Nia said.

“It’s like any other poison,” Kara said. “You build up a tolerance after a while. The illusions aren’t quite so convincing. Waking up’s easy.”

Somehow, Kara was grinning. It wasn’t what Nia had expected.

“You’re… ok with it?” Nia said.

Kara’s smile slipped slightly.

“It’s better,” Kara said.

“But-”

“Can we- can we not talk about it?” Kara said. “It’s a dream. It passes the time. But you, tell me about you. When are you from? Costume looks like… early Dreamer, always liked how you looked in that one. It’s been so long, I can’t remember the details. What’s Alex doing now? What’ve you been doing? I want to know everything.”

Kara spoke without breathing. She sat down on her bed, batting the husk of the Black Mercy to the side, and patted the spot beside her for Nia to join her. Carefully, Nia drew closer.

“Uh…” Nia said. “Alex is fine. So am I. Just being Dreamer, I guess.”

“And you jumped when I kissed you, so I guess it’s before _that_,” Kara murmured.

“Sorry, before what?” Nia said.

“I- I guess I shouldn’t say,” Kara said. “I never thought I’d see you, and here you are, but I can’t technically say any of the things I’d imagined saying.”

“Write it in an envelope?” Nia said.

“I can’t remember the date it’ll be safe to open,” Kara said. She chuckled. “This is a mess.”

“Um…”

“No, no, it’s good,” Kara said. “It’s how I know it’s really you. The Mercy makes everything perfect, all the little things are so good to experience again. If it showed me you, it would be after we- That’s not the point. I’m asking about you. So have you gotten to-”

“Are you happy?” Nia said quickly.

Kara faltered at the interruption. Nia took a breath; Kara could be effusive a lot of the time, but this felt different. Desperate.

“I heard what it’s like for you,” Nia continued after the silence dragged on. “They wake you up if they need you to save the world, and when you’re not fighting you’re in… that, and dreaming. And you outlived all of us. I can’t imagine… But if you want me to go back, to say something to you, to help you move to Argo, just say. I can do it if you’re not…”

Kara hesitated again. She still wasn’t looking away.

“Don’t worry about time, or the timeline, or whatever the Legion talked about,” Nia said. “It doesn’t matter. If you’re not ok, then it’s wrong.”

Kara still stared. There were cracks in her expression now.

“Nia, don’t,” she said.

“You deserve better,” Nia said.

“It’s not about me,” Kara said. “The Legion can handle the day-to-day but if things get bad, they need Supergirl. I can’t stop or leave, just to go to Argo.”

“You should be happy,” Nia said.

“I won’t be, if I’m there when I know I could be helping,” Kara said. “Nia, don’t, please.”

She shifted back, for a moment looking like an entirely different person to the breathless, enthusiastic Kara who’d been peppering Nia with questions moments ago. It hurt to see her, in an entirely different way to how it hurt to see her under the plant.

Nia squeezed her hands into fists and forced herself to look across and meet her eyes. This couldn’t be Kara’s future.

“You’re not less important,” Nia said. “Anything that I can do to make sure you’re ok-”

“Nia…”

“_Anything_ I can to do give you a better life,” Nia said. “If you’re going to live this long then you deserve to be happy during it. I can’t just be there and know you’re going to end up in pain. If you tell me you’re happy with this, then fine, but it doesn’t seem like you’re ok.”

Kara closed her eyes for a long, pained second.

“Ok?” she said. When she opened her eyes, they were brimming. “How could I be ok? I was there when you died, I held you, I waited, I heard your heart stop. And I was there for Alex, and Cat, and Kate, and people you don’t even know yet. I lost you and I knew I’d never meet anyone like you and I knew I’d have forever to miss you. I live in a dream I know is fake because it’s the closest I could ever come to seeing all of you again, but you’re here _now_ and I want to treasure that. Please.”

She reached out, softly taking Nia’s hands in her own, resting them on her knees. She stared almost pleadingly; Nia stared back.

How was she supposed to just let this be? How was _anyone_?

“Argo…” Nia said weakly.

“I wouldn’t be me if I could turn my back on helping,” Kara said.

“No… No, you wouldn’t,” Nia said. “I’m sorry.”

“Nia E- Nal. You have nothing to be sorry for,” Kara said.

“You just deserve so much better than this,” Nia said.

“I had a good few decades,” Kara said. “The best. And you were always there, don’t think I don’t remember that. Even when things got bad with… I remember you being there, and how much it meant.”

Nia swallowed. Her eyes prickled; it hurt, seeing Kara of all people like this. Resigned.

“No,” Kara said softly. She brushed Nia’s hair out of her eyes, barely registering the gesture as intimate. Her voice hitched. “No, I don’t ever want to be the reason you cry.”

Nia pulled her hand back, brushing her eyes clear. No, this wasn’t fair.

“What will you do?” Nia said. “After this?”

“Dream of you,” Kara said.

“Kara.”

“There are more saplings at the base of the bed,” Kara said. “I can be asleep in a few minutes. Please can we talk about you?”

“No,” Nia said.

“What?”

“No,” Nia said. She pulled her hands away, and pushed herself up to her feet.

She forced herself to look away from Kara, wrenched her head to the side, and walked up to the door. She knocked hard three times. Kara watched her go, guilt and loss filling her features.

A few seconds later, the pale-haired woman answered. She hesitated at the expression on Nia’s face.

“Can she come back with me?” Nia said.

Kara stiffened, suddenly staring at Nia’s back with a different expression on her face. The woman blinked.

“What?” she said.

“Kara,” Nia said. “If she wants to meet us all again, she doesn’t need a plant. You have a time machine.”

“I… if she lived in a different time, the effects would be…” the woman said.

“I can’t leave,” Kara said. “Nia. Thank you, but-”

“Then don’t leave,” Nia said. She turned back around. “You don’t have to live back there, but you can at least visit can’t you? Spend a weekend or a week with us. Then come back here, no trouble. You don’t need to rely on _that_. See all of us again, for real, even if it’s just for a bit. That’s possible isn’t it?”

Her voice raised slightly. She looked from Kara, who was lost for words, back to the waiting woman. She stood there, hopefully considering.

“She deserves something!” Nia said. She glanced back at Kara. “You deserve so much more than this.”

Kara never took her eyes off the back of Nia’s head. She hadn’t wanted to turn away from Nia during the whole visit, as if afraid even blinking would make Nia vanish, but now her gaze was even more intent. She tried very, very hard not to hope.

“Theoretically,” the woman said slowly.

“Then we’re doing it,” Nia said. “Come on.”

She turned, extending a hand to Kara. After a couple of seconds the Legionnaire shrugged, smiled, and stopped thinking it over.

Unsteady on her feet, Kara stood up. It was amazing how someone who could fly seemed to have so much trouble walking; she took Nia’s hand and followed.

It wasn’t far through the dark hallways before they made it back to the timeship. The woman with the white costume led the way, Nia behind her, and a wide-eyed Kara close behind. She clung to Nia’s hand.

The ship opened for them. Brainy was already standing, waiting for them to come inside; he jerked at the sight of Kara.

“Um,” he said.

“She’s coming with us,” Nia said.

“Don’t look at me,” the woman said. “She’s in charge.”

Brainy opened his mouth to say something, then stopped as Nia and Kara brushed past him.

“There’s a room back there, make sure she’s comfortable,” the woman said. Nia glanced back, and nodded.

The two of them vanished behind a swiftly-closed door. She stood with Brainy for a long moment, watching the place they’d been.

“Don’t say it Querl,” she said. “It’s never sat well with me having Supergirl filed away like that. If this works, I’ll count it as a win.”

“That’s not the problem,” Brainy said.

“I know,” she said.

“This was dangerous, Nura,” Brainy said. The woman looked sideways at him; he didn’t sound judgemental, merely commenting on an observation.

“Maybe,” she said. “I just wanted to meet her.”

She was quiet for a moment. A smile crossed her face as she watched the closed room, and a few seconds later Nia emerged.

“Goodbye, and good luck back there,” the pale-haired woman said. “It’s been an honour.”

Nia looked between them for a moment. Any other time and she might have dwelled on her confusion; she was too breathless then, too busy with what felt like getting away with something. Too busy helping.

The future could take it. Probably. If it couldn’t bear helping Kara, then it wasn’t any future she wanted to protect.

“This is where I leave you,” the woman said. “Brainy can input the coordinates when you want to come back. I’ll trust you.”

“Thank you,” Nia said.

“Oh, how could I not help?” she said.

She left the ship with a wave. Nia frowned after her, but there wasn’t time to dwell. She felt… light, suddenly, lighter than she had been since getting that vision. Kara was in the other room, and she seemed to be happy.

While Brainy took his place in the driver’s seat, Nia went back to Kara’s side.

It was hard to pinpoint exactly what she felt; she looked uncanny, so very familiar but with differences mounting the longer she looked. The costume was recognisable, but the design tweaked over the centuries, her hair a little longer, her cheeks slightly sallow, a hundred little things that marked her as a different Kara even if it was impossible to look at her and think anything except Supergirl.

“Hold on,” Nia said. “This can be a bit bumpy.”

“Got it,” Kara said.

Nia pulled the belt across herself; Kara only noticed one was there for her to wear after. She secured herself and watched Nia grip the seat underneath her in lieu of armrests. Kara seemed almost self-conscious.

It took a few seconds more for Kara to mimic Nia’s position, holding onto her chair, even if she’d probably be less affected by any turbulence. Her hand drifted close to Nia’s.

Nia caught sight of her staring again. Well, she could hardly blame her if even a fraction of what she’d heard was true.

“Is this ok?” Nia said. “I can ask Brainy to wait a bit if this is too fast.”

“No,” Kara said. She shook her head. “No, this is good, more than good. It’s just… more than I’m used to. I’ll manage.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Kara said. She hesitated. “Just… stay with me? Until we get there, I mean.”

“Of course,” Nia said.

Kara smiled in relief. And then the ship started shaking; Nia braced herself, shooting a ‘warned you’ glanced across to Kara as the seats below them started to vibrate and the air itself began to thrum.

It wasn’t as bad as Nia remembered, though memories were always like that. It still wasn’t pleasant. She felt like her teeth would shake out of her skull as the ship began to move.

Until, finally, it still. Nia took a deep, shaky breath.

“It isn’t as bad when we land,” Nia said. “Promise.”

“I didn’t notice,” Kara said.

“Of course, invulnerable even to turbulence,” Nia said. She chuckled. “You really do get all the best powers.”

“I felt it,” Kara said. “I just don’t mind. It’s… better.”

It took a moment to register the change in her voice.

“You… do want this?” Nia said.

“More than anything,” Kara said. She shifted, leaning back. “I’m just not used to good things that aren’t a dream.”

“Hey, this is real,” Nia said. Her hand crossed the short distance to rest over Kara’s. “I promise I’m not a plant.”

“No. You’re… younger,” Kara said.

“What’s that meant to mean?” Nia said.

“The you in the dream,” Kara said. “It’s how you look- will look. Eventually. I remember.”

“Oh,” Nia said. She tried for a smile. “I’m in your perfect dream-world huh? Kind of flattering.”

Kara’s expression slipped. Nia squeezed her hand, voice softening. Maybe faint attempts to lighten the mood weren’t the best plan.

“Sorry. You probably don’t want to think about it,” Nia said.

“No. It’s alright,” Kara said. “You were there. Everyone was, and you… I missed you. So much.”

“I’m here,” Nia said. “We all are, or will be, where we’re going. We’re not gone.”

Kara was quiet. It didn’t seem to be a sad quiet, more a stunned one; Nia stayed close beside her as the Legion ship flew on.

The ship started shaking again without any warning. Nia held tightly onto Kara’s hand as it pushed its way back through into National City, returning to reality. Neither moved even when everything became still.

A few seconds later, Brainy peered around into the room.

“We’ve landed,” he said. “It’s been two minutes since we left. We can go outside.”

Nia looked curiously over to Kara; Kara stared back with wide eyes. She was on her feet without seeming to need to go through the process of standing up, half-dragging Nia out the door. Grinning at Kara’s renewed enthusiasm, Nia staggered after her.

They stepped outside the ship. Kara turned around on the spot, closing her eyes, taking a deep breath and circling around.

“I can hear Alex,” she murmured. “And James is here, and Kelly, and J’onn, and… I’m really here.”

Her eyes snapped open, and she threw herself at Nia, hugging her and forgetting to keep her feet on the ground as she span around. Nia blinked as she felt a kiss pressed against her cheek, delivered without any hesitation or thought.

This Kara had… done that before. She barely seemed to notice she was doing it. Nia carefully dragged her thoughts away from thinking about why a future Kara would be so casual with… affection.

“Thank you, thank you,” Kara said.

She pulled back, breathless. Only then did she catch herself.

“Um,” Kara said. Her cheeks coloured slightly.

“We- I- uh. Who do you want to see first?” Nia said.

* * *

Changing the topic was easier. Suggesting time travel, too, had been easy. The reality always ended up being staggering, and this wasn’t any different. Pointing out that Kara didn’t need to say goodbye to everyone when the Legion had time machines was easy, figuring out a way to explain why she had a second, older Kara following her around and staring at everything was hard.

Not that there was any delaying things. They’d made a beeline for Alex’s apartment. Kara started flying after a short running start, re-adjusting, and swooped back to bring Nia up with her. At first, Kara headed for the wrong building before Nia reminded her where Alex was living in that particular year.

Alex’s window was big enough to get inside; only Supergirl would be travelling at those heights. Still, Kara faltered a floor above.

“Kara?” Nia said.

“It’s… been a while,” Kara said. Nia turned; Kara was shaking slightly. “I still remember… Ok. I’m ready.”

She lowered before she could talk herself out of it and slipped in through the window. Nia fell out of her arms, standing upright quickly.

“Kara?” Alex’s voice came from the other room. “One moment! You could’ve called.”

Kara stiffened at the sound; she froze as soon as Alex walked into the room, struggling to find the words. Alex, meanwhile, did a double take.

This Kara looked different enough that it was hard to mistake her for the Kara of this time. Alex frowned, then looked at Nia.

“Harun-El?” Alex said, more weary than anything.

“Huh? No,” Nia said. “It-”

“Martian?”

“No!”

“Bizarro?”

“What?” Nia said. “Alex, it’s not…”

“_Alex_,” Kara finally spoke. She said the word like it was a miracle she could say it at all, and instantly Alex turned to her, expression softening.

Appearances could be faked, so could voices, so could knowledge. The way she spoke, though, couldn’t. Kara barely blinked, not wanting to waste even a split-second of sight for so long as her sister was near.

“Kara?” Alex said. “Why… Nia. You might want to explain. Is this a conversation I’m going to need a drink for?”

“Right, so, uh,” Nia said. “You know time travel’s a thing? Well time travel’s really a _thing_. We kinda. Um. Yeah.”

“So she’s from…” Alex began. She glanced Kara up and down. “Twenty, thirty years?”

“A thousand,” Kara said softly.

Alex hesitated. Her gaze settled again back on Kara, expression instantly shifting to something rather less brusque.

“You’re…” Alex began.

“I saw her in a vision,” Nia said. “She looked so… I couldn’t just leave her.”

She didn’t know how much Kara would want to share about the Black Mercy or, well, any of it. That was up to her.

“I missed you,” Kara said. “So much.”

Now it was Alex who was struggling for words.

“It’s been so long,” Kara said.

She took a step closer, pausing, then seeing no wariness finally moved closer to hug Alex tightly. It was a second before Alex lifted her arms, and a second more before she hugged Kara back. She still looked stunned.

There was no reticence in her expression though. Some things just took a while to process; she’d joined the dots quickly enough. Time travel, older Kara from the far future, and now how she reacted to just the sight of Alex.

Kara was shaking.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” she said.

“Can’t… breathe…” Alex managed.

Kara pulled back, though she still didn’t move that far. Nia neared. Alex, meanwhile, caught her breath again.

“Does Kara, I mean, our Kara, present Kara, god that’s going to get confusing, does she know you’re here?” Alex said.

“We’ve only just come back,” Nia said.

“I wanted to see you first,” Kara said. “I can see me any time, and Nia’s here, that left you.”

“Right, so,” Alex began. She stammered for a moment, still caught off-guard. Her gaze never left Kara, only briefly flicking to how close she seemed to stand to Nia. “I want to say ‘let’s catch up’ but I feel like there’d be problems there.”

“Nothing that matters,” Kara said.

“Right,” Alex said again. “I… I’m not sure how to react to having a second Kara show up.”

“I’m just glad you’re here,” Kara said.

“Me too,” Alex said. “Can- Can I ask what happened to me? If I’m gone…”

“Time,” Kara said. “I’d _never_ let anything happened to any of you.”

“It’s… strange to think about,” Alex said.

“Don’t,” Kara said. “It doesn’t matter. Not now.”

Alex hesitated. Her expression had softened, glimpsing a fraction of what Nia knew in this Kara’s face.

“Are you… staying?” Alex said. “I don’t know what it’d mean for the future, but it sounds like you should.”

Kara paused, looking back at Nia. Nia opened her mouth to speak only to falter.

“We, uh, haven’t planned that far ahead yet,” Nia said. “I just wanted her to meet everyone again.”

Something flickered across Kara’s face, and it took everything Nia had to not wince. The Legion probably would object to a second Supergirl roaming the past, and even then if she just outlived them a second time what then? Three Supergirls? Four? More?

She couldn’t just have brought Kara make only to force her to say goodbye a second time. It might be a better goodbye, but it was still a goodbye, and Kara deserved better than that.

No. Nia swallowed. No, she told herself, that would not be how this ended.

* * *

They’d planned to introduce the visitor from the future at Kara’s place, deciding it was the easiest place to gather everyone; as soon as she stepped inside though, the future Kara started walking wonderingly around the place. It had been so long since she’d lived there. Along with meeting people she’d lost, she walked through rooms filled with memories.

She stumbled, then. Nia immediately caught her; Alex hurried to her side a split second later.

“Kara!” Alex said.

“Are you ok?” Nia said.

“Just… tired,” Kara said. She took a deep breath. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten. I thought I’d keep it together.”

“There should be something,” Alex said. “I doubt Kara, urgh, other Kara will mind. She’ll be here soon.”

Nia nodded. She helped Kara to the sofa while Alex headed to the cupboards; a frown crossed Alex’s forehead, though she didn’t press the issue. Even after a thousand years, she doubted Kara would ever go a day without an unnecessary amount of main meals without something really, really big stop her.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what it was.

Kara gratefully inhaled a few cookies Alex had found. Almost unconsciously, she held Nia’s hand, rocking back on the couch.

And then Kara’s eyes went wide. She jerked forward, turning to face the door.

“Is that everyone?” Alex said.

“I smell potstickers,” Kara said.

Despite the earlier flicker of concern, Alex couldn’t help but snort.

“So, yes, it’s you,” Alex said.

“I’ll let them in,” Nia said.

She stood, heading for the door, only to pause for a second before opening. Even having all the time since running into Alex to think about this, it was still a little overwhelming. She just needed some way to even begin to explain it.

Taking a deep breath, Nia opened the door.

Everyone was still a little distance away down the hall. The present Kara was at the front, and behind her were James, Brainy, Lena, Kelly and J’onn.

“So,” Nia said. She hesitated. “Funny story…”

She rushed through explanations as quickly as she could while everyone trailed in. There was no immediate panic, just confusion that turned to melancholy, just Kara looking across the room at her future self.

The future Kara, in turn, looked back. She looked at everyone. Brainy, she knew; he was from the same time as her after all, and presumably one of the times she’d been woken up had been contemporaneous with him. At James and Kelly, she smiled again, a similar relief to that she felt when meeting anyone. Lena, though, made her stiffen; she glanced around the room, relaxing only when she noted that no one else had reacted. Still, she seemed cautious.

Nia took her seat beside that Kara as Brainy confirmed most of what she’d said. She let herself sigh; technically speaking that was the hard part over with.

“I should’ve said what I saw sooner,” Nia said, eventually. “I just didn’t want to until I knew there was something I could do about it. It just didn’t feel right otherwise.”

“I… I understand,” the present Kara said. All things considered, she was adjusting well. “So you… went into the future to pick her… me up?”

“I didn’t plan on it,” Nia said. “But I had to when I saw her. I couldn’t do nothing.”

“I…” Kara said. She hesitated. “Thank you.”

An odd smile crossed the other Kara’s face; the younger Kara, meanwhile, looked around the room almost self-consciously.

“I knew I’d live for longer,” she said slowly. “I didn’t know _how_ much longer, but I did worry about what it might… thank you.”

Nia smiled back. Alex glanced between the two, and then at the older Kara’s hand, still resting gently a breath away from Nia’s.

“So… we’re all dead?” James said.

“I can’t make you immortal,” the older Kara said. “I tried, so hard, to find a way, but there was nothing I could do but watch and be there. And… J’onn’s still alive, but he’s on Mars. I don’t see much of him any more. He’s busy with-”

“I can return to Mars?” J’onn said.

Only then did Kara cut herself off; she pulled her arm back, resting both hands on her lap.

“I shouldn’t say more should I?” Kara said. “Being here is bending a few rules. I don’t know how much I can do.”

Brainy looked away. Nia sat up straighter, eyes suddenly bright.

“I don’t care about the rules,” Nia said.

“Nia-” Brainy began.

“No, really,” Nia said. “The world hasn’t ended yet, I think we’ll be fine, especially if you can be here. If you can’t stay, you can at least visit. Any time you miss us just hop in a time machine and come back. That’s possible. That way we won’t be dead, we’ll just be… long distance friends. That’s got to be better, right?”

The older Kara shifted; Nia looked at her fervently, unblinking.

“I…” Kara glanced around the room. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah,” the younger Kara said.

Lena opened her mouth to say something; unnoticed, the older Kara met her eyes across the room. Quickly, Lena fell silent. A lot could be said in a silent look by one who knew what was going to happen.

The awkward silence started to fade. The nerves emanating from the older Kara, the tension at the fear that she’d lose all this one day again, were diminishing; even if it hadn’t been consciously registered, the lack of them lightened the mood in the room considerably.

And the younger Kara’s gaze drifted back to Nia. So much could be said in just a silent look.

“I want her on my team for game nights,” Nia said.

“What?” Alex said. “No!”

“Come on, you’re always with Kara,” Nia said. “You two are ridiculous together. I want an advantage.”

“Amen to that,” James said.

“I think-” the older Kara said.

“You only get half a vote,” Alex said. “_That_ wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”

“Come on!” the younger said. “That’s cheating!”

Nia laughed, falling back against her chair, relaxing, only to falter. Beside her, the older Kara was staring up at the light-hearted bickering with a look of rapture on her face. She seemed almost on the verge of tears, though certainly not bad tears.

Alex noticed as soon as she looked down, immediately focusing away from the back-and-forth.

“Hey there,” Alex said softly. “All good?”

“Better,” the older Kara said. “I’ve… missed this.”

“That settles it,” the younger said. “Game night. Right now.”

* * *

It was late by the time everyone began to quiet down. Laughter became more tired than exhilarated, guesses started to become slightly unhinged, and slowly people began to leave. Lena was the first to stand up, saying something about needing to get up early for L-Corp business, the older Kara watching warily. A little after that, James left, then J’onn, then Alex and Kelly trailed out together.

Brainy left, saying something about making sure the timeship was secure. That left just the two Karas and Nia.

“I don’t know if I can change things,” the older Kara said. She looked between the other two, and a flicker of fondness crossed her face. “But there’s… someone I should talk to, just in case. I’ll leave you two.”

She flew out the window, and moments later it was just the two of them. Kara looked at Nia looked back at her.

Silence.

Nia couldn’t help but feel like she’d seen something private. She’d seen Kara at her worst, in a state not even Kara herself had seen yet. Hopefully a state Kara would never know, though trying to work out how much or little she might have changed time gave her a headache trying to work out; hopefully nothing world-altering had happened.

Just so long as Kara never hurt that much. This solution might not be perfect, but it was at least better.

Nia turned, and suddenly found it much harder to look away from Kara. Kara was watching her with an intensity she’d only seen brief echoes of.

“Thank you,” Kara said.

“I, um, any time,” Nia said.

“Really, thank you,” Kara said. She took a deep breath. “I tried not to think about… outliving everyone. I pushed it from my mind, except for a few sleepless nights, I didn’t want to even think about it. I didn’t want to _talk_ about it.”

Nia hesitated, unsure of what to say. Gently Kara took her hand.

“I could stand here all night and I wouldn’t be able to say how scared I was,” Kara said. “_Thank you_, Nia. I don’t ever want to have to say goodbye.”

“Y-yeah,” Nia said.

Her voice came out high, and suddenly she was thinking of the other Kara. The one who’d kissed her to say hello, the one who’d hugged her so much more tightly than ever before, who’d wanted to stay right by her side throughout all this.

She could see glimmers of… something in Kara’s eyes.

“I’m still kind of amazed I saw that far,” Nia said. “It scared me a little.”

“And now?” Kara said.

“I’m glad,” Nia said. “Still a bit scared, but it was worth it. It’s awful thinking of you like that, hopeless; that’s not who you are. It just seemed so wrong. Too wrong to leave.”

It felt like she should look away. She couldn’t.

“How much time did you spend with her?” Kara said.

“What?” Nia said. Kara gave an awkward-sounding laugh.

“Sorry, that was a little out-of-nowhere,” she said. “I’m just surprised you didn’t come right back.”

“We did,” Nia said. “As soon as I spoke to her, I knew we had to.”

“Really?” Kara said. “Sorry, I thought… The two of you looked close, that was all, with how she acted. I assumed you’d just spent a bit more time in the future.”

Nia hesitated again, remembering.

There was one obvious conclusion to draw from the way the other Kara had acted, one thing to presume about her future. About hers and Kara’s future. It wasn’t like the thought was new to her, even if it suddenly seemed a much more tangible prospect; she could feel her heart thud in her chest. She wondered if Kara could hear it too.

What about Kara, though? Was it too soon, was Kara having the same internal debate or-

Nia took a deep breath.

“It just sort of happened,” Nia said. “She’s, um, sort of great. And friendly.”

There was that odd look in Kara’s eyes again, something vaguely familiar. Damn it, ok, she’d try. She’d travelled in time, this hardly felt more impossible.

“It hurt so much to see you alone,” Nia said. “I knew I had to change things, because- um, you deserve to be happy, and- uh, it was great to- ah!”

_I care about you_. Why was that so hard? Every lead-up felt either grandiose or cliché or inadequate, she couldn’t make herself just say it so she tried to at least build to it.

Kara wasn’t saying anything. Nia inhaled, steadying herself; that could be good or bad.

“Nia,” Kara said softly. “I don’t want to spend even one year without you. Is… is that ok?”

“Definitely,” Nia said.

Kara’s tone left no doubt as to what she meant; Nia took a step closer, and was greeted by a kiss. Ok, fine, she could wait for Kara to say it first, that worked.

It was a little strange to kiss someone while her mind mentally compared Kara to a future version of herself. The two felt so similar though, so unmistakably the same. Kara clung to her with almost the same need as the one who’d waited a thousand years, and Nia found herself holding on just as desperately.

It could have been seconds, minutes or years before they finally moved back. Impulsively, Nia leant in again to leave a peck on Kara’s cheeks; Kara turned to catch her lips, kissing back.

“Oh thank Rao,” Kara murmured. “So, um, is it ok if I do that a lot more?”

“No complaints here,” Nia said.

“Apparently there’s going to be a lot of me,” Kara said.

“_Absolutely_ no complaints here,” Nia said.

Kara chuckled, leaning in again.

“Now that feels a little unfair,” Kara said.

“I know,” Nia said. “It makes me a little jealous I don’t have a thousand years to spend with you.”

* * *

The other Kara had gone home after a couple of days more, with a kiss goodbye from Nia and a hug from almost everyone else. There’d been a renewed light in her eyes as the door to the ship closed.

Now the city was back to having just one Supergirl, and the one Dreamer. It didn’t feel the same though.

Sometimes Nia caught herself grinning, still regularly needing to remind herself that it was real. It wasn’t a dream, not fiction and not something she’d need to wait for, it was now. She and Kara. ‘Dream come true’ felt like such a cliché to say, especially for her.

She still didn’t remember the dreams she had when sleeping. She hoped that was a good thing; sometimes she still woke up shaking, as if something terrifying was coming, but nothing concrete had happened yet. She hoped it wasn’t Kara.

And then a shining figure descended before her.

Nia squinted; it took her a second to identify Kara. Another, other Kara, she could see lines on her face and no trace of blonde remained in her pale hair, unmistakeably far older than the one she’d seen before.

She didn’t know how much time that meant had passed for her. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. Still, Kara touched down on the ground beaming, hurrying up to give Nia a hug not remotely diminished by age.

“Found you,” Kara said, voice achingly familiar.

Nia’s mouth opened and closed a few times. Kara pulled back, letting Nia take her in; she was definitely older now, though with how strong she was on Earth it didn’t show in her manner. Her eyes were alight with excitement.

She seemed younger than the Kara Nia had said goodbye to a handful of days ago, in all but body.

“Um. Hi?” Nia managed.

“Hello again,” Kara said. “Wow, you look surprised, I guess that means I must be early.”

“I- uh- um, huh?” Nia said.

“Wait,” a flicker of concern crossed Kara’s face. “I’m not before the whole arrangement am I? That’d figure.”

“No, um, I don’t think so,” Nia said. “You’re just the first other future Kara I’ve seen. And you’re, um…”

“Older? Wiser?” Kara said. She winked. “That’s a relief. It’s always so good to see you.”

She leant in again. Even confused as she was, Nia barely hesitated in responding to the kiss. Kara was Kara, no matter what.

“Did you, um, wait a while before returning?” Nia said.

“Huh?” Kara glanced down at herself, then chuckled. “Oh, no. The visits weren’t all in order, I should probably give you advance warning of that. Sometimes I bump into myself. There was a Christmas party with eight of me crashing, cook extra in 2034, all of us will thank you.”

“I’ll… bear that in mind?”

Kara beamed. Nia steadied herself, Kara’s grin infectious.

“Did you come back in time just to make it so you get an extra serving?” Nia said. “I can totally picture you doing that by the way.”

“No,” Kara said. “Well, not this time. I just, well, wanted to say thank you. If I remember you’re probably hearing that a _lot_ right about now, but I had to join in. It’s been… I don’t know how long exactly. I wanted you to know it was worth it.”

“You’re happy?” Nia said.

“_So _happy,” Kara said. “I won’t say it was easy to adjust at the start, but I never went back under the Black Mercy. If I started feeling the urge, I could just go back and see you instead; I can’t tell you what that meant. None of you were gone. Not ever. Even just knowing that, it was easier between visits; knowing a visit was even _possible_ meant so much.”

“I’m glad,” Nia said. She hesitated. “So we’re, um… is that asking for a spoiler?”

“Sort of,” Kara said. She was still smiling. “Though I’d hope you’d figured that out for yourself by now.”

“Always nice to have it confirmed,” Nia said.

Kara chuckled. She leant in again; apparently she couldn’t help herself. Nia pulled her in for a hug.

Ok, _this_ part might take a bit of getting used to. Having one girlfriend that sometimes popped up from her own future so technically having two girlfriends even if they were still the one and-

Well it was less of a headache if she didn’t think about it too hard. At least it was easy to not think about anything else when she had Kara’s lips against hers; Kara’s face might technically be a little different, but she still felt exactly the same.

Nia had almost forgotten how this iteration of her looked by the time she moved back.

“This isn’t a long visit,” Kara said. “I just thought you should know how grateful I am.”

“I’m glad it worked,” Nia said.

“Me too,” Kara said. There was a brief glimmer of something in her eye then. “Before I go, do you want to fly? It’s been a while since I’ve done that with you.”

“Sure!” Nia said. “Sounds fun. Do you mind if I cling on for dear life?”

“Never,” Kara said.

She was laughing again as she moved to pick Nia up; despite her remark, Nia hopped up with an eager smile on her face.

“I’ve got a dinner planned with, well, you in a couple of hours,” Nia said. “This is… still kinda new for me. Are you planning on crashing your own date?”

“Not this time,” Kara said. She chuckled. “We’ll have plenty of time.”

“Just making s- wait, ‘this time?’” Nia said. “Am I going to have to worry about time travellers popping by and getting in the way of date night now?”

“Oh, yes. _Lots_.”

* * *

Nia wasn’t sure when she’d started looking forward to going to sleep. She had vivid memories of how she’d once dreaded it, and how she’d been nervous even as she’d started to get a handle on her powers. Even unremembered, dreams of uncontrolled visions unnerved her, and that was before she’d found out just how far she could see.

Something had changed though. Sometimes she did still wake from forgotten nightmares, yes; sometimes she even woke up with a vague recollection of what they needed to do.

There was more to it now though. When she slept and she dreamt things that even she would never know, she woke up feeling light, she woke up feeling like everything would be ok.

Even when she was scared, even when her dreams had her heart pounding in her chest and had a cold sweat break out, nothing could ever quite shake away that feeling. They’d be alright. She couldn’t be sure, of course, but she only felt like walking on air in very specific circumstances, and she liked to think she knew what she saw.

Kara was still out there, in the far future. Some day she’d come back and visit all of them. No one was ever really gone, not for her.

Supergirl in flight, in a city centuries away, with a smile on her face. Happy after everything. It was a good dream.


End file.
